Polly and Digory Return - Part 3: The Road to Beruna
by Glenstorm63
Summary: Polly and Digory find themselves on the other side of the wardrobe, no doubt with a job to do for Aslan. They set about finding out what.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Lamp Post**

…

Digory

Now that he'd got Polly buttoned up firmly, her thick strawberry blond hair once again tumbling about her youthful shoulders and her riding hat perched jauntily, Digory looked about them some more. His own dark brown hair was smooth with a distinct wave and there was just a hint of a beard.

Everything was bright and wonderful. There were no true shadows as the crunchy shallow snow on the ground was in all directions and reflected the diffused light from the grey sky of high cloud. Light seemed to come from the ground as well as from above. This made it difficult to guess the location of the sun and therefore the time of day. It could have been anything from mid morning to mid afternoon.

There was no sign of the interior of the wardrobe, just an arching thicket of what looked like laburnum and hawthorn. The beech, elm and linden trees that were scattered about in all directions were bare of leaf, but shapely and beautiful, with drifts of rust coloured bracken here and there. On the heights behind them were well spaced trees that were probably larches, with an understorey of shining holly in a deep gully.

Digory had a tear in his eye. He knew well that Aslan must have called them here for some purpose that belied the initial pleasure, but what beauty!

They both breathed in the cold crisp air with zest. Though cold, the air was clean and enervating. There was no coal, no car exhausts, no mills, no factories pumping out industrial fumes into this landscape.

"This feels wonderful!" he exclaimed, swinging his arms and springing about with delight. "I haven't had this boundless energy for years. Oh, to be young again!" Digory took a short run and leaping in the air, he clicked his heels together. "Thankyou Aslan!" he called as he spun about facing Polly, his face glowing. His voice rang through the snowy wood, echoing from a tall cliff face of dark red sandstone that lay behind them.

Ever the practical one, Polly was already gathering up the two fur coats that lay on the ground on the edge of the thicket. It was then he realised how cold it actually was.

She handed him a coat, and he brushed off the bits of dry bracken that were clinging to it. They looked each other in the eye again. There was no hint of the psilocybin induced silliness and euphoric dark eyes. Instead their eyes had returned to a normal clear brightness; her's a sombre grey-green and his clear hazel. Noticing this, there came a clean sense of joy, gratitude and anticipation and the rather weightier one of… well, responsibility.

Polly said, "Well, we are here for something, we might as well toddle along and find out what".

…

They stood for a few moments, at a bit of a loss as to which direction they should walk in. The air was almost silent. There was only one bird they could hear and that was a redwing that was sending a sharp chirrup every few seconds, but it did not show itself. There was no wind.

"Polly, do you remember whether the sun was in the south or the north when we were in Narnia before? You know, when it travelled across the sky? We were only here for two days. My memory fails me. If we could just work out where the sun is and work out what time of day it is, I suspect I could get us our bearings and work out a way forward."

"I seem to remember the sun travelling from East to West through the South," she said, "at least it seemed to be on our right when we flew back from the waterfall and over Narnia. Those mountains we saw, was it Archenland? I'm sure the sun was pitched over them and then it set behind us. If we are in the north of the world, then those mountains would be to the south I imagine".

But really, Polly's guess was as good as his, so after they had shrugged on their coats they began trudging along through the shallow snow. It was then that they each discovered inside a pocket, a roll of paper tied with a bow. They recognised them. They were the scrolls that Peter had presented to them only an hour or two earlier.

"How did they get into our pockets?" they may well have asked, but they just looked at each other and shrugged knowingly. But they might as well have asked "How did we get to a land through the back of a wardrobe whilst we were under the influence of Liberty Caps?"

…

Even though they looked about, hoping to see another small bird, perhaps a talking one, but there was no further animal life to be found. So after a few minutes of walking along, enjoying the adventure and a return to youthful vigour, and clarity of mind, Polly asked, "So where are we in Narnia, Digory? Do you have any idea where we might need to be heading if we keep walking this way?"

"Polly, I agree, but… oh, that will take a moment to work out. Now… I did get Peter to draw me a map… but the memory is a bit fuzzy. Hhhmmm. Hold on a moment." He stopped in his tracks and looked about, trying to locate the sun and the lie of the land.

Then he walked over to a rock, swept the snow off it, sat down and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he turned to Polly and said,

"I think, I hope, we are in the far south west of Narnia, not very far from where we entered in the first place... if the wardrobe brought us here to the same site that it brought Lucy and then the others. As that is the best guess we've got, then logically we ought to be quite close to the London Lamp Post, which Lucy came across shortly after she first came here."

"So a bit further down the valley, to the place where the Tree of Protection grows then?" added Polly hopefully.

"Alas, Polly, _once grew_. It's not there now. Jadis killed it as soon as she arrived back in Narnia."

"Oh dear, yes of course she would have. It was going to make her life in this world such a misery wasn't it. It's coming back now," said Polly, looking a little crestfallen.

Then she gave a start and turning to Digory wide-eyed said, "And you know what? You know how time runs swifter in Narnia than on Earth… well… remember that the night your mother died, the same night the storm blew down the Narnian apple tree in London. Well… I am wondering whether that also coincided with Jadis's conquest of Narnia and killing the Tree of Protection. It would fit wouldn't it?"

"Oh, yes, I see what you mean," replied Digory, looking grave

"It wouldn't surprise me anyway," she went on. "And when her time ran out, it was the wardrobe made of that wood which enabled the children to get here to deal with Jadis."

"And now us," Digory concluded. "But what is our task? I assume it has something to do with responding to the children's concerns about what they left behind. Helping to re-stabilise Narnia government perhaps, if not too much time has gone by since the four left so suddenly."

"Yes, that thought has occurred to me too," concurred Polly. "Now what was it the Peter said in that short piece of his after Susan told her story?"

They each tried to recall what they could and together they eventually strung the following piece of verse together:

 _But exiled here we worry so, Else Peridan and Daimyo,_

 _Or offspring of the Galman Duke, May find occasion to rebuke,_

 _Each other or far worse to slaughter, The heroic Terebinthian daughter._

 _But when empty seats of power sit, And none can then be found to fit,_

 _The roles of Diplomat or Warrior, Celebrant, Scold or Battle Doctor,_

 _Counsellor, Clerk or Host Engraced, We pray Aslan 'Please act with haste'._

They paused for a moment, looked at each other and felt in their hearts that this was the problem they were being asked to solve.

Polly clapped her hands to keep them warm, "So which direction do we go in then?"

Digory said slowly, "Even if… we don't find the Lamp Post… I think we should probably be aiming… downhill I think. If we are where I think we are, we should be able to aim downwards into the main valley of Narnia... if we can just work out the basic direction. Do you remember? And Peter and Edmund and the others were not joking when they said they ruled the land from a castle by the sea. If we are going to be of any assistance, we should probably just keep following any streams until we hit the main river and then just follow it to the sea. They said to me that the castle - was it Cair Paravel? - was sitting on the northern headland overlooking the river mouth."

"Oh, but Digory, even if we end up going in the right direction, I can't walk all that way in riding boots! And neither can you. We may be youthful and vigorous again, but we can't just walk there like this. It might be hundreds of miles. And days… or even weeks. And it's freezing! I'm sure Aslan got Judith to put out this old riding habit for a reason."

But there was nothing for it but to walk somewhere, supporting each other to prevent each other slipping on icy rocks. So, they silently proceeded along what seemed to be a rough bridle path, winding its way around boulders and tall trees, and for a short stretch, a definite paved pathway over a frozen brook and after another five minutes, they rounded another bank of rock. There, ahead, they beheld a wondrous sight. It was the London Lamp Post, lichen-and-moss-encrusted; hart's tongue in abundance around its feet and astoundingly, a few cowslips flowering. The Lamp Post was flooding the clearing in which it stood with a golden light, only slightly dimmed by the general flood of white winter sunlight. Curiously, the trees which grew around and about, appeared to be reaching their branches towards the lamplight. They were the elegant grey shapes of rowans and the snow-festooned green of junipers and hollies.

And it was as they stood there, once again breathing it all in and remembering things from the past so clearly, they began to speak out loud again.

"Do you remember, Jadis broke off that lantern like a stick of barley-sugar? To think that that woman clutched onto our hands in the middle of her own palace in Charn. She was like iron. It still haunts me to this day Digs." Polly shuddered.

"Yes, and the roar of shock that went up from the crowd! They really knew they were dealing with something out of the ordinary then. And even thought we knew what she was capable of, it was still a shock."

"And do you remember how she bashed the lantern down on the helmet of that poor bobby that came running?"

"Yes, he was darn lucky to be alive after that! And later she threw it at Aslan like a spear and hit him right between the eyes. And he just kept walking!"

"Thank goodness he did! If he'd curled up and died, I don't know what we'd have done." finished Polly.

They breathed in deeply, soaking up the gentle golden light, listening to the faint hiss of the gas flame; remembering this very Lamp Post sprouting and growing and lengthening in front of their astonished eyes.

It was then that a silken voice spoke suddenly in their ears.

"We've been watching you two humans approach here for quite some time. You certainly didn't hurry yourselves, but at least you came in the right direction."

They both jumped, a rather electric frisson racing through both of them. Turning about and looking around, they couldn't see anyone at first but they eventually spied an eldritch kind of face, shaped amongst the branches, leaves and red berries of a holly, glowing in the lamp light. Then, with sudden movement, the nearer branches bent down of their own accord and springing back up, released their burden of snow in a great spray all over Polly and Digory.

Recovering from this unexpected onslaught, they found standing on the ground, not three feet from their astonished faces, a woman, nearly seven feet tall with light greenish-grey skin, a long fall of dark hair, with a braid around her forehead, bound with holly leaves and berries. She had the most startlingly bright red eyes. She was unclothed, but when she saw them swallow nervously, trying to avert their eyes from her body, she smirked and wriggled her shoulders and her skin seemed to become clothed in an elegant robe of deepest green.

"There," she said, "the Kings and Queens we had until recently got used to all us dryads showing ourselves in natural bark, but I can see it doesn't suit you... yet. Never mind, I quite like clothes anyway," she said, swishing her gown little. "But you certainly seem to be encumbered with rather a lot!" she said, glancing derisively at Polly's riding habit and boots, hat and fur coat. Naturally, Polly bristled at her, but the holly woman just smirked down knowingly.

"Wh… wh… who are you?" stammered Digory, who had always been a little overwhelmed by powerful female personalities.

"Well, I rather think I ought to be the one asking you two that question, don't you think? Last night a star falls to earth. The whole forest comes alert. Something's clearly afoot. Then this morning, a Daughter of Eve and a Son of Adam appear out of nowhere at eleven o'clock in the morning in the middle of a thicket up yonder in Upper Lantern Waste. At just the place our Kings and Queens disappeared the summer before last."

She laughed knowingly at their astonished glances. "Oh, Word travels fast when you're a tree. We have our ways and means, don't you worry. How do you think Jadis got her intelligence that Tumnus was fraternising with a human?" she asked cryptically. "It's not only Robins and Beavers and Sly Weasels who keep a look out you know," she added, seeming to watch their reaction to this, perhaps to play on their fears and ignorance.

Digory had a creeping feeling that she was trying to scare them a little. "Jadis?" he thought anxiously. But as Polly had not heard the story and Digory had learned to be inscrutable in his career as a University Professor, she was disappointed.

But she shrugged it off quickly enough.

"No matter, but if you must know, my name is Celyn. I am one of the many trees who guard this Lantern throughout the year and we have been watching closely for mysterious appearances. You two have been the most convincing so far. Oh, we have been searching long and hard, let me tell you and also keeping a strong guard on what is rumoured to be the portal to the Fair City of War Drobe in the mysterious Land of Spare-oom."

Again, watching Polly's slightly puzzled reaction, she said "Silly old Tumnus. He got it wrong didn't he? I did a stint as warden of the robes at Cair Paravel, you see, so I certainly know what a wardrobe is. Tumnus wouldn't have. Even during the long winter fauns never wore clothes. The royal children just came through a wardrobe that was in a spare room somewhere didn't they?"

They nodded.

"So you do know their story then? I thought as much. The legates at Beruna will be wanting to speak to you, mark my words." She chuckled.

"And so I guess you both also stepped into the same wardrobe a short while ago and emerged here?"

They nodded again.

Then she pointed a long twiggy finger at Digory and said, "Then this young son of Adam starts talking about being young again, leaping about as if it is a spring frolic and thanking Aslan and sharing his thoughts about where you both might be. And he was right. And then to top it all off, then you both walk into the sacred circle of the Lantern and begin blurting out memories about the Lantern itself, memories which rightly belong in the Dawn of Time, unless I am vastly mistaken. So I repeat, 'who are you?'"

Digory glanced at Polly. Polly glanced at Digory.

They both put their hands in their pockets, feeling the scrolls that Aslan had undoubtedly remembered to send with them and Digory, gaining courage from this, intoned in his best Professorial voice;

"Polly, as now we are in Narnia we assume our Narnian titles from here-on-in. I am Lord Digory of the Apple. My companion is Lady Polly of the Rings. We have both been named as Peers of the Realm, Guardians of this Lantern and Counsellors of the Narnian Privy Chamber, by none other than High King Peter himself. We have documents to prove this. We are far far older than we may appear to you. We were indeed last in Narnia at the Dawn of Time and we require escort to the Royal Court, or what is left of it, as soon as may be. We have been sent by Aslan and High King Peter."

The Holly Dryad stepped back a little, looking surprised and not altogether pleased, but she smiled formally, did them a low curtsey, and then called "Sisters and Brothers! You heard what the Lord Digory said. He and the Lady Polly require an escort to Beruna. Do what you can!"

With that, the rest of the trees nearby quivered slightly and Digory could have sworn this was followed by the sound of a large flock of birds, as if they had taken flight from the glade, but none were to be seen.

…

As they stood there looking about, Celyn said to them both. "I suspect an escort will be on its way very soon. It might even get here before the Legates at Beruna receive news."

"Oh, so there are Legates appointed are there?" put in Polly, speaking at last. "May we ask who appointed them and how many there are?"

But before she could get an answer, the sound of sleigh bells approaching distracted them and they waited with bated breath until a team of reindeer swung into view.

…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Gifts**

…

Polly

The reindeer were coming from the same direction that Polly and Digory had. With her heart in her mouth, it seemed to Polly that time had almost stopped. They seemed to glide in slow motion over the rough rocky parts with ease and they kicked up enough snow that fell so slowly that it obscured what was coming behind. As they galloped glacially into the lamplight, bells clanging hollowly, Polly took a slow step back, crashed into Digory and the Dryad. Celyn clutched them both with long twiggy fingers and more than a little prickle before time sped up again furiously.

There was a deep "Whoa, whoa!" and the whole train came grinding to a rapid halt in a fast spray of snow, the bells now tinkling musically. Steam arose from the reindeer in the cold air and they snorted. There were ten in all. They were tall, grey and brown, with gaunt antlers. They rolled their eyes and stamped, but did not speak.

Polly and Digory tried to gather themselves to be Ladylike and Lordly, but what stepped out of the sleigh took their breath away. It was a tall, larger-than-life man with a shining face and a long bushy beard that came past his knees. He was dressed in a thick coat and trousers and boots of supple leather, stained reddish brown and a white-fur-lined hood which he tipped back as he surveyed the little party, to reveal long bushy grey hair. He was unmistakeable.

"S… S… S… Saint Nicholas?" was all Polly could manage.

"Ah ha ho ho! Yes indeed I am, Lady Polly of the Rings!" he said in a great booming voice without even raising it.

"Or Weihnachtsmann, Santa Claus, Joulupukki, Ded Moroz, Winterfather, Grandfather Frost, Kanakaloka, Pere Noel… or Father Christmas." He rattled off the different names with all the accented magic of the source languages.

"Or whichever other name you prefer," he added with a wink. "I answer to them all!"

"And I am so pleased to make your acquaintance at last. I do believe congratulations are in order for your part in reducing the potential for deadly secrets between nations so as to decrease evil and suffering. You are a woman of great courage, patience and tenacity in the face of unspeakable horrors. Both a team player and a woman with an eye for the larger pattern. Well done!"

With that, he reached around him into his sleigh and drew out a mysterious object which he handed to her. There was a carved handle of dark wood, about eight inches long, projecting from an embroidered cover. She pulled it out to reveal an oval mirror in a gilt frame. On the back it carried a stylised relief of a lion's head in gold on a field of coral.

Polly took it in a trembling hand, "Thank you sir". Being a no-nonsense, practical woman, she was wondering what she ever might do with such an object. Saint Nicholas twinkled at her puzzlement but then looked at her with a graver smile.

"You have been brought into Narnia to achieve great things, do not doubt. This is a tool, not a toy for vanity, although you could choose to use it so. With this mirror you may see many things. The handle is made from the salvaged heartwood of the Tree of Protection and the mirror from the surface of the water that lies in the Narnian Pool in the Wood Between the Worlds. Best keep it covered until need requires it.

Feeling more than a little nervous, Polly gave a slight bob despite herself.

"And there is a second gift Lady Polly. High King Peter has named you Lady Polly of the Rings and I see you are wearing not one. Here. Remember, the same warnings apply to this gift as well. You will learn their secret."

With that, Saint Nicholas gestured for Polly to hold out both her hands. Onto each finger as well as each thumb, he slipped a band of copper, silver or gold. They went on like oil and sat comfortably, hardly noticeable to the touch. But they each bore a stone of a different colour, which winked and glittered in the lamplight. Polly felt distinctly overdressed.

Digory

…

He then turned to Digory. "And I must thank you, Master Kirke, or should I say Lord Digory of the Apple? Your forbearance at the garden of life in the Dawn of Time and at your mother's bedside so long ago, has borne its fruit well. Your tears have healed many. By refusing to succumb again to your own selfish urges, not only did you buy Narnia a long start in its early years free from dominion, and your mother a long life of health and happiness, you also had the foresight to conserve the past and to create a work of craft in honour of the mother you loved once her time was over. With your continued generosity of spirit in harbouring those children from harm, your wardrobe was able to bring the four sovereigns into this world seventeen years ago and it was they, who with Aslan's great sacrifice, and their clear hearts, freed Narnia and the spirit of generosity that was always meant to fall like the rain and flow like the rivers in this beautiful world. Thus was I also able to return."

He looked down at Digory with compassion, whose eyes watered and lips trembled. He said, "Never think that your work with Narnia was misunderstood Lord Digory or gone unthanked. You have been doing the work all your life and we appreciate it. But never think that your work for Narnia was done. Here you are again, to perform another task with your erstwhile companion that may be long remembered. No doubt all will become clear to you both in time."

Seemingly from nowhere, he handed Digory a small globular casket, carved intricately from the same wood as the handle of Polly's mirror. It had a gilt hinge and catch and like Polly's mirror, the lid was adorned with a field of coral surmounted by a gold lion's head.

Digory's hand moved to open the catch, but Saint Nicholas held up his hand in warning.

"Ah-ah-ah. I would suggest opening this casket only when you have a moment of great privacy Lord Digory," remarked Saint Nicholas gravely. "You may find its contents draw the attention of many, before you are ready for them."

Digory hastily tried to cram it into a pocket out of sight and found to his surprise that it seemed to shrink in his grasp and fit quite comfortably. He could see out the corner of his eye, Polly making the same discovery with her mirror.

"You also have a second gift. It is a bottle filled with the ink from the Kraken of the deep southern seas. When this ink is used, the written words when spoken will be binding; not only upon those to whom it is directed, but also to the one who speaks them. It will remain full until it is no longer needed, but use it sparingly. Make sure you take care with your words. It comes with a quill from one of the Firebirds of the Sun. This quill will remain sharp until it is no longer needed."

Digory slipped the crystal ink bottle with its amethyst stopper into his other pocket and carefully slid the quill inside his shirt where it could stay safe.

"And all good things come in threes. You both might need these as well".

Saint Nicholas handed both Polly and Digory long dark wooden objects about eighteen inches long, which proved to be daggers in sheaths. Again there was some coral inlay with gold banding.

"Oh dear," said Digory, glancing at Polly with concern. She pulled her dagger partly out of its sheath, took a sharp indrawn breath and shoved it back in quickly after seeing the sharp blade. It also disappeared into her pocket.

"These blades are made with peace in mind, not war, Lord Digory and Lady Polly. They are made from the ploughshares forged by King Frank himself which were used to till the first soil of Narnia in order that his family and people could eat. They may have many purposes."

…

Now he turned to Celyn, smiling. The Holly Dryad was looking at Saint Nicholas with a jaundiced eye, her hands on her hips, holly leaves about her shoulders bristling.

"Ah! It was your star that fell to ground last night was it not!" she declared accusingly. "You have come early…"

"Indeed I have," he confirmed. "The tides of fate demanded it and Aslan is not a tame lion…"

"So is the day of the Winterfather early this year – this day? Or do you return at the next moon to apportion your largesse to everyone?"

"Never to everyone, only those in most need," was his somewhat terse reply, but with a smile twitching the corners of his mouth.

"My question you have answered not!" she retorted. "Are you coming back? And you were extremely generous to the Daughter of Eve and Son of Adam just now. What about I? What about my sisters and brothers? Have we not toiled? Standing guard, searching for the lost sovereigns, watching for ne'er-do-wells, fortune seekers and trespassers? Have I not acted as emissary between the Spare Oom thicket, Beaversdam and Beruna? Do I get a gift now or next month?"

"Yes, yes and yes!" Saint Nicholas bellowed. "But no, you might get none at all, if you carry on like that!" Saint Nicholas replied, his immense laughter preparing to burst out.

But Celyn was having none of it. "Your gifts I need not!" she snorted. She turned her back and prepared to merge into her tree.

But she stopped thunderstruck. Her tree was now taller than it had ever been. Each of its leaves now bore a distinct edge of creamy white. Its berries were larger and fuller and redder than ever before. From out of its branches scampered red squirrels, who, braving the prickly leaves, began to dexterously affix crystals and silver ornaments to its outermost twigs. In a twinkling the tree was alive with movement and colour and the reflected light of the London Lamp Post.

Celyn stood trembling, seeing her home and her being transformed into a thing of rapturous beauty in front of her eyes. She turned around and saw that all the other trees in the inner circle had also been changed. They were larger, richer looking, even the bare rowans, looked braver and stronger. Light was being reflected back from a thousand prisms.

With a laugh and a wave, Saint Nicholas sat back in his sleigh, called to his reindeer and they sped off in a cloud of spray, his laughter echoing through the woodlands. Watching him disappear down the rough snowy, Digory felt his senses uplifted again and he turned to Polly and said in an undertone,

"Well, I suppose we had better ask Celyn how long she thinks we might have to wait until our escort arrives."

…

It was then that Polly and Digory noticed that Celyn was gone and that two of the largest reindeer were standing patiently looking at them with dark eyes, saddled and bridled for riding.

"I believe we might be that escort" one of them said drily.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Cross Country Ride**

…

Digory

It had been many years since Digory had last ridden.

When he had been about forty-two, a few years after the Great War, he had come down to Dorset from Oxford University because his father was gravely ill. But after spending time at Alexander's bedside, sitting in vigil with his mother, he had needed to get out for a while. So he had taken one of the horses out for a run. But the horse had shied when a large dog had come bounding out of nowhere barking like mad. The horse had then taken off along the river flats in a mad gallop. Digory had been thrown and dragged. He had torn ligaments in his shoulder, cracked a few ribs, dislocated his knee and bruised his coccyx badly, and never ridden again.

So when Polly had madly suggested a few hours before that they put on their riding gear because they were going riding anyway, the psilocybin-induced derring-do that had been awash in them both had pushed aside any resistance.

But with a clear head, the prospect of actually riding reindeer here and now, brought him up a bit, more out of habit than anything. However, when he thought more about it, he found that the bodily memory of his hurt and pain and fear was no longer with him. It seemed to be rather dim and in a faraway past - or future – that no longer made him wince in remembered pain and anxiety.

So he rather cheerfully looked at the two reindeer hoping for a new and wonderful experience. And after all, this was Narnia.

The deer introduced themselves as Soffá and Miljá. Soffá, whose name meant Wisdom, and who had the larger and more complicated antlers, was the elder. She claimed that whilst they rather enjoyed running around in a team pulling The Winterfather about in his sleigh every year, she admitted they were looking forward to something a little different. In listening to her, Polly felt that she sounded rather like herself when she had been about thirty-five but with a gruffy lilt that reminded her of some Finnish refugees she had interviewed only the year before.

And Miljá, whose name meant Freedom, and whose smaller antlers only amounted to about six seasons, in a voice that was almost a dead-ringer for Ingrid Bergman, said:

"Well, we did hear your story just now, here in the Glade of the Lantern. So when the Winterfather chose us to be your companions for a while, we felt very honoured. Imagine! Taking two of the first ever humans who were in this world on a ride across Narnia!"

"Oh, Miljá, you have stars in your eyes my dear," replied Soffá, blowing warm steam, but she still had a very pleased look about her.

"What do you know?" retorted Miljá out the corner of her mouth, bucking her hips about, eyes rolling. "Personally I think we might just make it into the songs and tales now. Just think, 'Soffá and Miljá, noble caribou of northern tundra clime, the chosen steeds for those returned from the Dawn of Time,'"she chortled with glee.

"I told you, stars in your eyes! 'The chosen of the Winterfather worked herself into a lather!' you mean. But you're right. They will be popular and some of the glory might just rub off on us. Come on… we haven't got all day."

…

So it was that Digory found himself and Polly sitting astride, trying hard to muffle their noses in their fur coats and doing their best to avoid the tossing antlers of their steeds as they raced through great tracts of cold snowy forest, planting their springy wide toed feet carefully in the snow as they went. It was marvellous. The wind whistled past their chilly ears, their hearts raced and they clutched the pommels and hung onto the reins more for stability than for steering. Digory could see Polly frantically tying the ribbon of her hat under her chin with one hand, her titian blond hair whipping about in the icy wind. And he was glad they had the stirrups because some of the country was rough and some turns of direction had to be navigated.

But the deer were excellent at finding the smoothest ground and nobody lost their seat. To tell the truth, their gait reminded Digory slightly of some Lipizzaner horses he had seen in Vienna some years before but naturally had never ridden. There was thus none of the bone shaking motion of the trot and none of the thunderous rise and fall of the gallop. This was something else entirely.

And in the mid-afternoon, they came down from Upper Lantern Waste, just as when the world was new. They saw the upper vale of Narnia spreading out below them, with the main river in the distance, but this time disappearing and reappearing in loops from behind snowy white hills dotted with trees. The tors and steep gullies, thicker forest and glades were behind them. Here the country was opening out and after only a very few miles, they came down a winding path into a gentle vale in which the semi-frozen flatness of water meadows and spreading pools could be clearly seen.

…

As they came into the vicinity, Soffá said quietly but firmly, "Best we tread extra quietly here Miljá, and best keep your voices down Lord Digory and Lady Polly. These parts are inhabited and we don't want to crash into the residents' backyards so to speak and wake them up if they are trying to sleep. They mainly get up at night you know."

For quite some time, they trod along carefully, with Polly and Digory looking about eagerly to see any sign of habitation. But Digory, who could not see a house anywhere said, "But where are people living around here? It just looks like a lot of bushy trees and mud banks with tussocks and pools everywhere. I don't think any man or woman we know would want to try and navigate around here at night."

"Oh! So you don't recognise beaver country then?" asked Miljá.

Poor Digory went a little pink again and realised his ignorance was showing. Polly glanced over at him and winked reassuringly.

He said, "Well... er… I must s-s-say, I believe I do not. Y-y-you see, in our country I, I think beavers have not been seen for at least th-th-three hundred years.

"Oh my goodness, it sounds worse than the White Witch!" replied Miljá, who had been born well after her reign had ended and thus had no comparison.

But Polly answered smoothly, "Indeed Miljá, there are many things wrong in the world from which we come and the continued absence of Beavers from our particular country is one of the saddest. If Beavers are indeed here, it would be a sad loss to pass through and not meet any. I assume you mean Talking Beavers?"

"Of course" said Miljá.

"Yes, of course! She does mean talking Beavers Polly," put in Digory. "It's coming back now. Lucy… Queen Lucy, was telling me that when they all first entered Narnia together, they were befriended by a pair of Beavers. I believe they were simply called Mr and Mrs Beaver. This wouldn't be near their home by any chance?" he asked.

"Oh indeed it is," offered Soffá. "I have been here several times with the Winterfather. I was just a young thing; my first time drawing the sleigh and it was the beginning of the great thaw, the end of the White Witch's reign! We had to deliver a new treadle sewing machine of all things! And it was such a weight! What does a beaver need with a sewing machine I wanted to ask. It is still beyond my comprehension!" she said. "But Aslan works in mysterious ways and the Winterfather only provides what is most needed and no more, so she must have needed it for something."

"You know, I admit I thought exactly the same thing when I heard it from Lucy," said Digory. "But I believe she said that before they were all crowned, and often afterwards, Mrs Beaver used it to run up clothing for the new Kings and Queens of Narnia. Lucy told me that the story went that Mrs Beaver's great grandparents had rescued the original one from the depredations of Jadis and with the help of the centaurs had brought it up here in secret from, where was it, Beruna?"

"Probably Beruna," replied Soffá. "It was and still is the market town and those Narnians who need clothes usually go there to find them."

Digory nodded. "And really, I mean, a Beaver's Lodge would be the last place the Witch – or anyone else for that matter - would have ever thought of looking for a sewing machine. It would get so damp and rusty! Lucy told me that there had only been one in Narnia ever, and that the origins seem to be lost in the mists of time, but she said that her research into the matter at Cair Paravel suggested that it may have originally been a gift from Father Christmas to Queen Helen the first Christmas they had here. We suspect that Mrs Beaver must have been preparing for the prophecy to be fulfilled and planning to become the new sovereigns' seamstress. I understand she was most concerned about Jadis getting her hands on it and fiddling with it; losing the bobbins and misthreading to turn it into an instrument of mischief perhaps?"

The image in Digory's mind was comical in the extreme and he almost giggled, but the memory of Jadis wrenching an iron bar and later throwing it with dead accuracy at the singing Lion in the very act of Creation gave him pause.

"Are they still alive though?" was Polly's question. "I don't want to ask for Mr and Mrs Beaver and then find they aren't here anymore. I mean it has been seventeen years since Lucy and the others arrived. Do Beavers even live that long?"

"Well, as to that, most Talking Beasts in Narnia and nearby countries do tend to live much longer than our dumb cousins you know," said Soffá, "but I couldn't say in this instance. Certainly I think you'll find that their many descendants also live hereabouts too. Quite a colony."

"Are we still alive?!" came a deep and gruff, slightly cross voice. "Of course we are still alive! Who wants to know?"

The two reindeer and Polly and Digory looked about trying to locate the voice. It was only then that Digory finally spied a crooked little chimney rising up from the snow about 100 feet away, half hidden behind some willow and aspen branches. But a sudden explosion of snow from what looked like a drift only a few yards away, revealed the head and shoulders of the most enormous rodent that Digory had ever seen, poking out from a tunnel that came out halfway through a mass of branches, mud and twigs covered in snow. The muzzle and forehead were rather grizzled, and as the whole creature emerged, they could see the powerful dark brown body flecked with more than a little white and then the flattened tail.

"And who might you be, shouting down our front door, talking about me and the Mrs being dead? We was asleep, not dead! We should be both alive and asleep if we weren't being woken up every five minutes by troublesome visitors." He sounded most put out.

The beaver peered up at them with bleary and slightly rheumy eyes and then he wiped a bit of sleep away with the back of a paw. His expression changed when he finally saw his visitors. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slackly revealing rather worn yellow teeth.

"Oooh!" Then he turned quickly and cupping his paws around his muzzle he bellowed down the tunnel, "Missus! You better get here double quick! There's young humans here in long fur coats again and this time they're on Christmas reindeer!"

There was a slightly querulous voice that echoed up the tunnel, "What's that you say Mr Beaver? I didn't hear all that! More stoats and Christmas cheer? Talk sense dear. The stoat family aren't welcome here, even in mid-winter. And it isn't time for a visit from the Winterfather for another few weeks!"

"Just come out Missus. You'll see for yourself."

"Who are ya?" he quizzed them more quietly in an aside. "Her bladder's not the best and I don't want her havin' too much of a shock."

Polly and Digory hastily dismounted.

Digory quickly got down on bended knee and looking Mr Beaver in the eye, said carefully, "My name is Digory and my companion's name is Polly. We have come to bring you all news of Queen Lucy and the rest. We are …er… close friends of theirs from… the other side of the wardrobe."

"Oooh hoooh! I knew it. It was the fur coats that gave it away. And you talk almost the same too." If Mr Beaver had been younger and fitter he would have been hopping from one foot to the other. As it was he just jiggled from side to side a little, looking excited, suppressing his glee.

They all waited.

Mrs Beaver finally emerged, a little gingham apron tied around her middle. She squinted up at them, her face almost white, but she could see very little. "Just a moment Mr Beaver, I've got to polish me specs; they've got a bit gummed up. The chars we were given by that Wiggle who was passing through were that slimy!"

She rubbed her paws on her apron. "Now what was that you were trying to tell me about? Stoats and Christmas cheer? Or was it Boats and Christmas Beer" she said with a bit of a scoff in her voice.

She then carefully took off her spectacles, reached down, grabbed a pawful of snow and with great dexterity began to use the snow and a cleanish corner of her apron to rub her spectacles clean.

The cold snow didn't look like it would shift much, but it must have done something, because she had a quick shrewd look through them at arm's length, gave a satisfied nod and then popped them back over her ears and finally looked up.

By this time, Mr Beaver had waddled over to Mrs Beaver and stood next to her. "I said, 'There's young humans here in long fur coats again and this time they're on Christmas reindeer.' See for yourself."

Mrs Beaver saw the fur coats with Digory and Polly's faces looking out of them and the two deer looming behind.

"Oh…! Oh…! Oh…!" She gave a little whimper, sat down and took a deep breath.

Then she said in a low tone, "Aslan's mane. Well… they sure looks like something we've seen before, but there's only two of 'em and there's no prophecy to go on this time Mr Beaver. At least they look a little older than the last ones did when they arrived."

She planted her paws on her apron trembling and with her spectacles glinting, fixed them with her eye and said in a shaky voice, "Am I right in thinking you come from the place where long fur coats come from then?"

"Missus!" said Mr Beaver with some embarrassment.

"Oh dear, well… I really meant to ask, are, are, are you from the same place that Lucy and her family came from? Did you come through the wardrobe?"

She had tears in her beaver eyes.

"A..a..and do you know aught of what became of them?"

She looked up imploringly, her paws now up near her mouth, wide eyed with distress and hope. A few tears ran down her cheeks and off her snout where they turned into icicles.

Polly spoke this time. "Oh yes, we do indeed Mrs Beaver. My name is Polly. This is Digory. We are all staying together in the same house back in our world. They are all safe and sound. And whilst they are finding it difficult to not be in Narnia anymore, they seem to be adjusting rather well with a little help from Aslan. It had been less than a week in our time you see."

"Oh, well I never, that is such a relief to me. She sniffled. Oh, I am leaking at both ends again," she said. "Just a moment if you please."

She waddled off behind a mound of snow for a few seconds, heaved an audible sigh of relief and then came waddling back.

"That's better, now… so has Aslan sent you two here to be our King and Queen instead then?"

Polly and Digory looked at each other horrified. Neither of them had thought of that.

Seeing their faces, Mr Beaver asked, "So he hasn't even asked you then? Oh, he's not a tame lion, not Aslan," waving paw at them.

"No he's not a tame lion, not Aslan," Mrs Beaver repeated in a sing-song kind of voice.

"Not to worry! You should have seen the look on the faces of Peter and Susan and Lucy when we told them about the prophecy and about him being a lion! They went grey as herons. Sovereigns of Narnia was the last thing they wanted to be. They just wanted to go home with their brother… " he paused, considering his next words.

"Yes, with their brother…" echoed Mrs Beaver. "But with Aslan's help and later with Edmund's they did it, and a fine job they did too. They became the pride of Narnia and the envy of all its neighbours."

"For nigh on sixteen years it was. It was a Golden Age!" finished Mr Beaver.

"Oh yes, it was a Golden Age!" echoed Mrs Beaver again nostalgically. "And we'll never see the like of it again," she whimpered bleakly.

But she took charge of herself and had another look at Polly and Digory once again through her grimy spectacles, before saying, as if in reassurance "B..b..but I'm sure you'll do _almost_ as good a job," before elbowing Mr Beaver who said "Oh, yes, ahem, … _almost_ as good a job," before joining his wife in giving them two rather unconvincing beaver smiles.

…

Polly

"Oh what a predicament!" Polly thought to herself. "We've got to nip this in the bud at once!"

She coughed and said, "Mr and Mrs Beaver, we are delighted to meet you. I trust we can share a little confidential information with you? Soffá and Miljá here have already heard most of it and know to be careful."

They both nodded, all eyes and bristling whiskers.

"Well… we need to let you know several things. Peter and Susan, and Edmund and Lucy have all been talking to Digory here since they all left Narnia. I have only met them myself two days before arriving here, so there are many things that I know little about. We want you two especially, as you were among their first friends here, to understand that they were led astray by the White Stag and found themselves back in our own world, almost as if no time had passed at all. They are children again you see."

I am not sure if you have ever seen a Beaver wince, but Mr Beaver managed it.

"We think it means they have been given a chance at a new life back at where they started, but with the wisdom and knowledge that they gained from Narnia, and yourselves of course... and knowing Aslan."

"So whilst it has been a terrible loss to you all in Narnia for the last eighteen months… is that correct?" she asked, to which they nodded again, "you can be hopeful for them and grateful that you knew them for so long. For myself in two short days and nights I must say that I have been most impressed and gratified that I have come to know them. Be assured that they have taken the best of Narnia with them in their hearts."

Mrs Beaver pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and blew her nose. Mr Beaver patted her on the back gently. He put a paw up to his own face and wiped a tear.

Digory stepped in to support Polly with the task.

"For ourselves, we must be honest. We are not quite sure why we are here, so we wish for no false rumours of our task or intentions to be spread about, if we can help it. As we have found ourselves here and returned to what we think is the age of about seventeen years old, we must believe that Aslan has sent us here with some purpose. We are both certainly far more youthful than when we entered the wardrobe. We both have long lives of experience in many things. It may be that we have been brought by Aslan to help Narnia restore its royal rule above and beyond the new Legates at Beruna, but we do not think it will be our rule to command. Before we left, Peter did leave us a riddle which we think signifies our task in this direction. But as neither of us has yet spoken with Aslan directly, or met the people named in the riddle, we cannot confirm our suspicions and do not wish to speak it just yet."

Digory paused and coughed a little in the cold air, pulling his coat about him some more. He continued.

"You are quite correct though. Aslan is not a tame lion. You should know that Polly and I have been to Narnia before and that we do know Aslan. We were lucky enough to be drawn into Narnia on the very moment of its creation by his high self, but we stayed less than two days. In our own world we are about sixty years old."

Mr Beaver even managed a bow at that and an awed whisper, "So that's who you are! I thought I remembered those names."

"And less than six hours ago, we were in the company of High King Peter and the rest," commented Polly.

Mrs Beaver hugged Mr Beaver in her delight as Digory continued.

"Just before we left, he presented us with scrolls which give our titles and broad functions and declare our status as Narnians and give recognition for some past tasks to Narnia's benefit. None of us knew we were coming. But someone mysterious slipped these scrolls into the pockets of the long fur coats we now wear and we must assume it was Aslan himself."

"We were also given gifts form the Winterfather earlier today which we must assume are to help us in our tasks. |And yes he did come early this year I believe. That is really about all we can tell you," he finished, looking at the two beavers concernedly and then glancing back up at Soffá and Miljá who had been patiently listening to this exchange.

Mr Beaver smiled with some toothy satisfaction, put his paw to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. There was nothing, but then after a few moments and over the next few minutes, Talking Beavers began to appear from all directions. There were also a few Otters and Water Rats in the mix, but far larger than we would ever see in our world.

"Allow us to introduce our children and grandchildren," he said.

When they were all gathered together standing or squatting or crouching in a semi-circle expectantly, watching for their patriarch's word, he said,

"Friends, neighbours, children, grandchildren… and relatives to the tenth degree. May I have the pleasure of giving you great news! This Daughter of Eve and this Son of Adam have been sent by Aslan and the High King Peter from across the worlds to restore the rule of Narnia!"

There was much cheering and slapping of tails on the snow.

"As you know, their task will not be easy! If rumour is true, there is strife amongst the royals of neighbouring lands. This strife which has now come upon Narnia. The whole neighbourhood wants a piece, but these two are going to fix it. They will restore the Golden Age!"

Polly and Digory looked at each other alarmed. This was not quite what they had been hoping for from a confidential discussion. They grasped hands in trepidation and realised they felt very cold, despite the fur coats.

It was then, that several things all began to happen almost at once.

First, the entire clan and their friends began capering drolly about in the snow with clumsy steps. The otters were slithering around on themselves and each other with delight. Mr and Mrs Beaver were hugging their legs in glee and relief.

Next, a thunderous tremor could be heard through the earth and several enormous black and bay centaurs galloped up the side of the vale, above the water line, puffing mightily, but smiling with bright eyes under black brows at the scene before them, flexing their chests and looking grand.

Then the Winterfather's train and sleigh scudded across one of the most frozen ponds and dams and came to a halt not far away, reindeer blowing, his laughter echoing across the ice.

And last of all, one of Polly's rings began to pulse with warmth. The heat spread from her hand and into Digory's and tingled throughout their bodies, banishing the winter cold. It also gave them the feeling that maybe they need not feel so nervous after all. The simple joy and love and the passion of the Narnian inhabitants was what it was all about after all.

There was nothing to fear. They had a combined lifetime experience of one hundred and twenty years. They had both been to Narnia before and Aslan had sent them to do good deeds.

Then Saint Nicholas, the Winterfather picked up a handful of snow and threw it glittering into the air. Before you could say "Jack Robinson", the entire cavorting crowd of creatures found themselves tussling with flopping fish or crayfish, and a few had eels which slipped and slithered about; others had the sweetest of sappy branches, others with dried berries according to their kind.

With a final wave, his train swooped away up the vale again and disappeared into the trees midst the echoing joyous laughter of his boundless love and generosity.

It was then that Polly noticed with gladness that Soffá and Miljá were still with them when they saw them grazing on a great pile of tundra moss and she realised they had become friends.

Then both she and Digory turned towards the centaurs who trotted to a halt not far away, gazing at them intently.

One of the centaurs spoke first. "Well met! My name is Knitbone and I am one of the Legates of Beruna. We have come with all haste. The trees of Lantern Waste have spoken. Two visitors from the Dawn of Time have come to Narnia as now we see with our own eyes. The star of the Winterfather has fallen early and here are his gifts of sustenance. Let us break bread together! Let it be a symbol of the times to come! All praise to Aslan!" he said in ringing tones.

There was not one creature that did not echo his last words.

For nearby had appeared a large cauldron of hot fish chowder over a merry fire. There were several enormous birch bark mugs for the Centaurs and two smaller ones for Polly and Digory.

So as they introduced themselves to these slightly alarming but noble beings, Polly and Digory found themselves ladling soup into the mugs and handing them out, along with torn off hunks from seven loaves of delicious crusty dark rye bread. There was enough to go round for Mr and Mrs Beaver and second and third helpings to any who wanted.

It was as they studied each other shyly over their mugs of soup that Digory asked, "And for what do we have the pleasure of your visit today Master Knitbone?

"We are your escort to Beruna."

…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Market Town

…

Digory

"You are the RELIEF escort you mean," said Soffá tartly out the side of her mouth, staring up at the four centaurs with a jaundiced eye, still chewing moss in figures of eight. "We could certainly do with some respite, to be sure, for we have been going for several hours already, but we were doing very well thank you very much." She bent down and took another mouthful and did not look at the centaurs again for a while.

Digory coughed, feeling embarrassed. He looked the centaurs up and down. For these startling and stunningly virile specimens to come galloping up to take them on the next stage was all very flattering, but he couldn't help agreeing with Soffá. It was all rather sudden and unexpected.

The centaur's horse parts appeared to be enormous Shire Horses, the largest either Digory had ever seen, at least twenty hands at the horse shoulder. However, from these shoulders or hips, depending on how you looked at them, extended even higher the masculine torsos, chests, necks and arms of enormous men. All four had long dark wispy wavy beards which grew from their chins and necks and even from their chests. All had smiling faces with mouths full of strong rather horsey teeth in full jaws with large sensuous lips, above which were wise, dark kindly eyes set under deep brows. They reminded Digory strongly of paintings of cave men from La Chapelle aux Saints that he'd seen in Paris when he had gone to view an ancient skeleton there as a young man. But these centaurs appeared much friendlier.

In an attempt to match their powerful presence, Digory put on his best deep-voiced professorial voice. "Ahem, … we do not wish to cause offence Master Knitbone," he said, "but Mistress Soffá speaks truly. The Winterfather himself appointed Soffá and Miljá here to be our escorts. Perhaps once we have completed our refreshments here, we may discuss the time and manner of leaving here and the route we should take?"

Knitbone and his followers did not seem to have taken any offence but just smiled broadly and dipped their heads. As they came closer, to take their mugs of soup, the combined musk of horse and healthy rainwashed man that rushed over Digory nearly made him waver. He could see Polly having a similar experience, her nostrils flaring as they witnessed the centaurs giving horse-sized sighs of satisfaction.

…

Three large wolf-hounds of the non-talking kind were also with them and one of the centaurs called them to heel as they came into view of the various Talking Beasts eating their favourite food. But even they were not forgotten, for when Digory next turned to ladle soup he spied a pile of meaty bones near the cauldron and he was able to toss one to each hound. They were very well trained, as they only flung themselves down to chew a bone each once their master gave them leave. Everyone continued to eat and drink until they were quite full and the cauldron quite empty and dusk was coming on. As all know, the sun sets very early in winter and so it was sunset by the time the escort party was finally ready to set forth from Beaversdam.

After some discussion with Knitbone, it seemed they were in for a four-hour journey into the darkness. It was getting very cold but the soup in their stomachs seemed to give them further courage and the thought of several hours ride was no longer bothering Digory. He saw that Polly also seemed to be looking quite ready for whatever came next.

Before they left, Mrs Beaver gave a squeak and scuttled heavily down into the Lodge she shared with Mr Beaver and a short moment later, came back with a bundle wrapped in brown paper and red bark string. She said panting slightly:

"I nearly forgot! I've been keeping this for Tumnus ever since the Kings and Queens disappeared. He passed by so excitedly after he had heard that the White Stag was in the area, that he clean left it behind. It was high summer at the time so he didn't need it then and I thought he'd be back. But he's one of the Legates at Beruna now, a person of great importance. With one thing and another, I haven't remembered to send it back to him and he's been so busy he hasn't had a chance to come back to his old haunts. Can you please take it with you? I'm sure it will give him some heart. He was wearing it the time he first met Queen Lucy you know."

Digory got down on bended knee once again and took the mysterious bundle from Mrs Beaver. He remembered to hold her paws and kiss her on the forehead and on her snuffly snout once each side, as Peter had described to him. She looked up at him gratefully and said, "Oh, you have a good heart you do, Lord Digory. You will do well, I am sure."

Digory used this moment to quietly ask a question which had been sorely bothering him since they had arrived. "Mr and Mrs Beaver, I do not wish to put you too much on the spot, but I wonder if you could help us understand something. Why is it, that the Legates are based in Beruna? I believe Beruna is in Central Narnia. What has become of the castle by the sea?"

Mr Beaver looked sidewise at the centaurs, and said out the corner of his mouth in the way that only Beavers can, "I think it is because once the Kings and Queens were gone, nobody wanted to be there anymore. It was too sad you see."

"Oh Mr Beaver, that it was!" exclaimed Mrs Beaver. "But more to the point, worrisome. We were all of us worried sick that some human from Galma or Calormen or Telmar would just come along and sit on one or more of the thrones and claim the rule of Narnia. The centaurs and the Narnian giants and the royal gryphons weren't having that! Imagine the uproar! The few humans around at court knew better than to assume Regency."

"No, nobody wanted that, no matter if they were a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve. The memory of Jadis is all too fresh in all our minds see. Her 'house' as she used to call it, up between them hills there mark you, horrible place," Mr Beaver was tilting his head at the low range of hills just to the north over the Great River, "was wisely knocked down for building rubble by the Giants of Narnia for everyone else's use within weeks of her demise. Otherwise we'd now have had two not-so-empty castles lookin' at each other across the land. And no end of trouble."

"No end of trouble," added Mrs Beaver. "So Cair Paravel has been locked up and kept under guard. Placed on mothballs you might say. It was the Council of Narnia that did that. The Council that then become the Conclave of Legates. They decided that Beruna would be the best place to do their job. More in the centre of Narnia as you say. Until the succession can be worked out… with Aslan's blessing of course. Though he hasn't been seen in these parts for more than three years..." she added fatalistically, her voice trailing off.

Mr Beaver coughed. "Ahem! He's not a tame lion you know."

"No not a tame lion," echoed Mrs Beaver again. "But come on then Mr Beaver, don't worry too much, these two will sort it all out, don't you worry." She patted him on the shoulder and looked at him slightly worriedly herself.

Then Mr and Mrs Beaver and all the clan and neighbours gathered around and said goodbye with gruffly or squeaking voices as the other two centaurs who introduced themselves as Knitbone's sons helped heave Digory and Polly onto Stargazer and Knitbone's back. They were rather glad of this kindness, as without stirrups and saddle it was impossible to scale their height without appearing fools.

Nevertheless it was going to be a bareback affair and for Digory and Polly's stability, Stargazer and Knitbone had each tied a broad belt around their human middles which had handles on the back which could be gripped. Polly and Digory each buttoned up their coats as high as they could and Polly fastened her hat on firmly again, this time with two hands.

Soffá and Miljá had kept on their tack which was far too small for the centaurs but they said were looking forward to a good run without riders.

"We think you might me needing us before long," said Soffá. "These centaurs will have the speed and stamina for the journey ahead, not to mentioned getting you across the fords, but we're sure you'll be wanting a chance to get away from things fairly soon, so we'll be just standing by. Besides, the Winterfather didn't summon us back, so we're sticking with you."

Each centaur held a lantern in his hand to guide their steps. And so it was with a last "Goodbye" and "Good Luck!" from the Beavers, that the party headed off in single file for the long gallop to Beruna, lanterns bobbing into the gathering darkness. First there was one of Knitbone's sons accompanied by the two of the wolfhounds, then Knitbone himself bearing Digory followed by Soffá and Millja, with Stargazer bearing Polly and last of all, the other son with the last wolfhound.

It was a long haul. Digory was grateful to Aslan for their returned youth and stamina, else they would never have made it. They had to grip with their strong young legs and just enter into the rhythm. Like the reindeer, these centaurs knew how to give a smooth ride so if it had not been for the bareback riding, they would have felt like riding on air. In the clean cold air, the musky waft from the armpits was still noticeable, so he really did wonder what it must be like in high summer!

Some of the clouds had parted and as they continued down the valley, they could see the silvery half-moon was already high and a few of the large stars of Narnia began to appear in the inky blackness of the southern half of the sky. The moonlight lit up huge snow clouds that were mounting far away in the north. The chill of the air made the stars twinkle in all the colours of the rainbow. It was thrilling if very cold. They raced down the winding pathways on the south side of the river, paced along rough tracks, forded half frozen tributary streams, climbed up forested banks and galloped across hog back hills covered in heathland.

And so, it was by quite late in the evening, the party stepped smartly along the wide path on the top of the south bank in the broad river valley in which sat Beruna below thickly wooded hills, the moon now just peeking over the south-western mountains behind on their right with high clouds scudding. Finally they finally slowed their pace and came down the final slope right to the edge of the lapping water.

Many tales have told of old Beruna, with the merry markets, the bells a'ringing, the rippling ford and the Rivergod and his Naiad daughters guarding the ways and keeping ordinary folk from mishaps. But Polly and Digory knew none of these tales though no doubt they would come to hear some of them in time.

At this pitch of winter and late at night, all that could be seen were a few twinkling lights on the far side and the ford spreading out below them in the moon and starlight. They could now clearly hear the chill waters rippling and rattling and chattering through the stones and shoals which must have been at least half a mile across. At this range, Polly and Digory could see dark, bare winter trees lining the banks. It was clear that in the Spring and Summer, this would be a most beautiful place. It still was. But in the moonlight, it seemed stark and rather sorrowful.

At the lapping water's edge they gathered, ready to cross the ford.

Knitbone gave a horsey rumble and said "Worry not, the water is not deep. But it is cold and swift. We will bear you across safely. Keep your feet up high if you can! After we gain the far side we shall all get a rubdown and for you Mistress Soffá and Mistress Miljá, they say that the Legate Tumnus is arranging a warm barn with good browse of willow and alder for you both as long as wish. And hot soup for the rest of us."

So into the water they all went. The arrangement was this. Knitbone's sons entered on the left so as to catch the brunt of the current. To their right strode Knitbone and Stargazer with their passengers and to their right entered daintily Soffá and Miljá, with the tired wolfhounds, half bounding, half swimming across as and where they found gaps.

The centaurs never stumbled and Soffá and Miljá looked like they had forded many a river deeper and wider than this. It took many minutes to cross, and Digory could only wonder at how they could all endure the cold. But out they came, stepping proudly up a gentle gravelly slope, up to an arch of huge shadowy trees and then onto a street up above the bank. Narnian dwarfs stood in a line, holding their mining lanterns on poles to guide their way. Once the party had all passed they followed along behind until they came in sight of a welcome party. Then the dwarves gathered around and held their lamps high and everyone could get a good look at each other.

In the lamplight was a mixed company of dwarfs, humans, fauns, dryads, a regal Unicorn, a Stag, a Bulldog and several ravens. One of the fauns came forward and gave a little cough. He looked rather chilled and emotional. He was rather grey haired, ruddy skinned and stout. He had tears in his eyes and he fell to his haunches looking up at them hopefully. He wiped his eyes with a pocket handkerchief.

"W-w-w-welcome to Beruna your Graces. We are the Legates of Narnia and we are so extremely glad to see you both. We bid you come into the warmth and shelter of the Legacy Hall. We have fire and food, beds and comfort. Your presence here is the most cheerful thing that has befallen Narnia for more than six seasons. But the Winterfather's early fall and your arrival here is finally a sign that Aslan is on the move. My name is Tumnus."

Polly looked over at Digory, tilted her head and gave him a sharp look. "You're the one practiced with delivering speeches Digory, come on."

…

 **Chapter 11 – The Market Town, Part 2**

 _I must acknowledge rthstewart who introduced us in her stories to Briony, Lambert, Jalur, Merle, Wrasse and the others who formed the personal guard of the four sovereigns. I have taken rthstewart at her word and included some of these characters in this story; although I think it rude to not offer acknowledgement. Thanks Ruth._

…

Digory

From the imposing back of Knitbone, Digory drew himself up looking down upon the gathered people and creatures, each one studying Polly and himself with bright eyes. He decided that if there was a moment to deliver grandiosity it was probably now. So in his best deepest public speaking voice he intoned:

"This welcome by the Legates of Beruna is most gratefully accepted Mr Tumnus! I, Lord Digory of the Apple and my companion, Lady Polly of the Rings do solemnly declare; may Aslan be our witness, that we two who beheld the Dawn of Time in the company of King Frank and Fledge, the first winged horse, have returned."

That caused a stir. A rippling murmur went through the crowd. Some of the dryads and dwarves went down on bended knee at _that_ declaration. Some looked awed, others curious, whilst others looked a little guarded and sceptical. He thought he even saw several of the dryads and humans and one dwarf looking slightly displeased, with frowns quickly replaced by schooled neutral smiles. That was interesting. He wondered if he had imagined it and whether Polly had noticed too.

"Ahem… good people, we shall indeed accept the invitation to come into the warmth of your hall and in time, perhaps on the morrow; it has been a long tiring ride mark you; we shall begin to speak in comfort about the stabilisation of Narnia and the re-establishment of a royal rule. We come bearing proofs of our identities written in the hand of High King Peter himself, although we must confirm the sad news that we do not expect any of the four sovereigns recently departed to ever return… at least in your lifetimes."

At that, there was a chorus of distressed voices and a few moans. The bulldog threw up its head and gave a low mournful howl. It was joined unexpectedly by several wolves, which had remained unseen on the edge of the lamplight; their piercing descant calls bringing a tear to more than Digory's eyes. It was clear that even the wolves, who had been favoured by Jadis, were missing their youthful masters and mistresses.

Once the hubbub had quietened, Polly also spoke. "May we also give thanks to Soffá and Miljá here, reindeer released by The Winterfather himself, for the task of bringing us to Beruna and who were relieved several hours ago by Master Knitbone and Master Stargazer. Thank you very much kind friends!"

The centaurs stood impassively, arms folded across their chests, but Soffá and Miljá tossed their antlers, looking rather pleased with themselves. The admiring gaze of the crowd was now turned to the steeds. "I told you!" Milja was heard to remark to Soffa.

Then Polly and Digory dismounted, with many willing hands to help them down and they all went through the entrance to the great hall. The centaurs, reindeer, dryads, dwarves, wolves, bulldog, and everyone else scuttled, strode or paced pattered in, even down to a few animals which looked like rather large Hedgehogs, Mice and Hares.

As Digory discovered, it was warmer inside. Being ushered through the doors by Tumnus, they firstly crowded into a large rustic vestibule, which was sealed behind them before the far doors were opened wide. The varied smells of humans and beasts all mingled together was very interesting to say the least. They then trooped into a large hall glowing with a central fire. Its roof beams were held aloft by tall timber pillars curiously carved and the dwarfs' lanterns were extinguished as several oil lamps attached to the pillars were lit.

Several tall dryads gathered about the centaurs and took the reindeer's tack off and began to give them all a good rubdown.

…

Polly

Tumnus was trembling noticeably as he trotted forward heavily, ushering Polly and Digory to a set of comfortable looking ottomans and high back lounge chairs, with cushions and bolsters and lovely thick rugs scattered about. His trembling was not with cold. When they were finally seated, sipping mugs of hot mulled wine, warming their hands, with others sitting, lounging or standing about soaking up the warmth from the hot coals and flames, Tumnus reached out and grasped Polly's left hand and Digory's right, drawing their heads towards his.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to see you two", he whispered with goatie breath in a quavering voice.

"I have no doubts at all that you are both who you say you are. The Winterfather's star falling a whole month early? It is unheard of! But I must be q-q-q-quick and warn you about something. There are others here who will not be so easily convinced or appeased and will want to examine your proofs with greatest rigor. You may even be opposed. Dear oh dear!"

He held a grubby pocket handkerchief and wiped his big dark tremulous eyes.

"Since the white stag drew our four sovereigns' away back to their own world, there has been no end of wrangling. No end! The humans who were left at Cair Paravel such as Peridan and Daimyo tried to fill the gap but the people of Narnia weren't taking that for long, oh no. Not after the hundred year winter. They wanted the blessings of Aslan or no kings and queens at all!"

"There have been delegations from the house of Frank and Helen from no less than three countries, all claiming the thrones of Narnia. We didn't know how to sort it out and to make matters worse, they began to fight amongst themselves. There was a fair to-do down at the Cair. We had to board it up and set a guard. The grounds are simply thick with male holly trees now. The entire Gryphon population has taken up residence in the towers. There has been no sign of Aslan. And if that wasn't enough, there have been Narnian members of _this Legacy_ _and their followers_ who have said enough is enough and have begun to declare autonomous principalities and republics for their own peoples!"

"Since last year we now have refugees in our own land. Imagine! Talking Hedgehogs, Badgers, Dwarves and Rabbits turfed out of their homes in Southern Narnia because the local Centaurs didn't want them digging holes there anymore. The fauns who live about Dancing Lawn were seriously going to charge entry fees to the spring festivities because there was not enough food to last them through the winter. Even the Narnian giants who've never intentionally hurt a flea began swearing and stamping about. Some even began to speak darkly about inviting their northern cousins to come in and sort everyone out."

"And to top it all off, some of the dwarves up on Lightning Ridge imprisoned a pair of hags they found living quietly amongst the tors not hurting anyone and began to torture them for information on how they could bring back the White Witch. It has been horrible! We had to rescue the poor hideous creatures. And now _they_ are baying for blood after their horrendous experience. The remnants of the White Witch's brood are beginning to stir. Myself and Peridan and Daimyo have done everything we can think of to just keep the Legacy onto the task of keeping the trade of Narnia going and making sure that everyone has a place to sleep and enough food in their bellies. That is why we have set ourselves up in the central market place. We hope some people of standing such as yourselves can help us sort it out."

He looked at them imploringly and burst into tears. At that moment, one of Polly's rings began to pulse with warmth and Mr Tumnus noticed. He pulled his and away hastily and stared at their hands with alarm.

"There's nothing to worry about Mr Tumnus", she said. "The rings on my hands are a gift of Saint Ni…, never mind, the Winterfather. That was a sign. I think, it was a sign that you have done the right thing by teling us all this and that all will be well. And I rather think…"

She paused for a moment because she had the most atrocious idea. But on second thought it seemed right somehow. "Why not?" she said under her breath, "In for a penny, in for a pound."

Then out loud she said, "Mr Tumnus, I have an idea. It's possibly a rather silly one, and I know this isn't the Arabian Nights, but there is an old story from our world in which a young man called Al'adin was in trouble underground and he was able to rub a magical ring that had been given to him and help came. I hope I am not taking Aslan for granted, but I rather think I should gift you with this ring. It is still pulsing you know."

So she slid the ring from her finger and taking Mr Tumnus's left hand slid the ring onto his left forefinger. It was red copper with a stone of jet, to match his ruddy complexion and slightly greying black pelt.

"I have a feeling that if you ever need to get my attention, you should rub this ring and think of me."

…

Digory

Tumnus gulped and stared at the ring in awe. It was then that Digory remembered the red scarf that Mrs Beaver had begged him to deliver, so he dug it out and gave it to Mr Tumnus. That made Mr Tumnus weep quietly, hugging the scarf to himself, so still holding his hand, Digory found this moment to look up and observe what else was going on. Apart from those giving or getting a rubdown the entire room was looking towards them curiously. But what was most startling was the close presence of two wolves who were gazing at Polly and Digory intently. They must have crept up silently whilst Polly and Digory were otherwise engaged.

Looking away immediately, one said softly "Like and yet unlike" out the side of its mouth. It was a throaty female voice which spoke. The she-wolf stepped forward hesitantly into the clearer light and sniffed Polly's booted leg. Polly resisted flinching.

"Caution Briony my love" said the other with a deeper voice. "She may not have had a friendly wolf sniffing at her leg before. Remember when…"

But the she wolf whose name seemed to be Briony just whuffed at her partner and immediately curled up in front of Polly over her toes and laying her head on her paws, looked out at the astonished audience and towards the fire, for all the world as if she was saying "Trouble this lady at your peril, she is mine".

Polly and Digory looked down. She was brindled grey fur with light brown tips and creamy underparts.

Polly, possibly realising she had been honoured, and now feeling a little warmer, was now able to slip off the fur coat and drape it back over the arm chair on which she sat. Digory sipped the delicious mulled wine and looking at the he-wolf which still stood by, studiously avoiding staring at him now with just the occasional spasmodic glance, cleared his throat; "Master Wolf, your studied interest intrigues me. May I have the pleasure of your acquaintance? You may call me Lord Digory if you wish."

The he-wolf dipped his head, came forward with great delicacy and said quietly, "By your leave Master Tumnus?"

Tumnus nodded vigorously, seeming to be relieved he was not the only one providing an anchor for these two who were the consolation prize in the long search for the lost sovereigns.

"Of course Lord Digory. My name is Lambert. I was once the personal guard of Queen Susan the Gentle. We have been long afraid that we failed in our duty. All we have left of her are her horn and her bow and quiver you see… and her crown of course. My den-partner Briony had the same function with Queen Lucy. We are determined to not repeat past mistakes. By the great Lion… "

Digory looked at the he-wolf with some sympathy, but he could not help sighing to himself. He and Polly had not slept for the last 26 hours, had experienced a change of life and circumstance _and_ been regaled by numerous creatures of the lost sovereign's acquaintance and carted across snowy country on two sets of steeds for the last ten of these. Dealing at this time of night with the guilt and grief of a press of people and animals was not what he had had in mind. He could see others hovering. He rather needed rest and sleep at this moment.

Lambert noticed his sigh and watching Digory's shoulders slumping he responded with a slight whine. "My apologies Lord. I am speaking too soon. I am sure there will be time for this later. Please excuse me. I shall take my place here and keep watch." Then, changing his tone he crept closer and said, "Just be aware of one thing. There are currents running through this room of which you will have little awareness at this point. If you feel the need to sleep, I will be your eyes and ears and will still be here when you awaken.

Digory glanced at Polly. Her eyes were already drooping but she nodded at Digory encouragingly. Tumnus also looked relieved as well and in a short while the murmur of voices and the warmth of the fire and the spiced wine sent them curling up in their furs on the great arm chairs into blissful sleep.

…


	5. Chapter 5

**The Woolly Mullein**

 **…**

Digory

The warmth of the room, the big pit of glowing coals, the odour of many creatures together and the hot spiced wine went to their cores and both Polly and Digory slept soundly sometime into the early hours.

Well before the winter dawn, Digory and Polly both stirred, needing to relieve themselves. So they had to disturb the wolf guards who had been lying across their feet keeping them warm. To their relief, the wolves summoned dwarves from their own slumber around the glowing fire, who, grabbing lanterns, guided them across to the rear of the hall and down a short corridor into curtained off rooms. There were chamber pots, thankfully with lids, arrayed on shelves and at floor level along with several trays with deep litter and there was plenty of sawdust about. As Digory needed the full catastrophe, he was rather relieved when the dwarf who had accompanied him bowed out the door leaving the lantern and Digory alone.

He looked about and found that there were hooks at different heights upon which to hang clothes, of which he made good use. He looked about for toilet paper and found none. Instead, he found a bowl of large downy leaves. Taking a closer look, he decided it must be Woolly Mullein, if he was any botanist, somehow kept soft and flexible for winter use. He found was rather glad to be youthful all over again. It had been rather a few years since he had answered the call of nature whilst camping in the Lakes District and the prolonged squat was something that would never have agreed with his aging body. Once done though, he still heaved several sighs of relief and he washed his hands with a little mashed soapwort and fine sand before rinsing. Feeling chilly, he redressed and found himself hoping he might find a change of clothes and a nightgown at some point in the following day as he jumped and shrugged a little to get warm again.

It was only after he had finished, he heard the rustle of company and realised that he had not been alone after all. To his embarrassment a small spotted cat which had blended seamlessly into one of the deep trays of leaf and twig litter was completing its own ablutions, scratching sawdust and pine needles behind itself before turning around and having a sniff. It then eyed him with it's rich green eyes in the way that only cats can. "It does feel ever so much better, does it not, my lord?" it mewed.

"Oh, well, er… yes, ahem,… I suppose it does, indeed," he managed to get out.

"Yes, the joys of a good crap. Glad to know you're one of us then. I can make my report now, then I'm now off for my pre-dawn hunt. Catch a few shrews and voles if I have any luck. I'll bring you one back if you like, Toodaloo!" But it did not wait for an answer and scooted through the curtain, tail held high and disappeared.

Digory wondered if it spoke truth and why, if it was going outside, it had bothered using this facility at all. Then it dawned on him. It had probably wanted to observe him. "Glad to see you're one of us then"? Did it want to know if he could be trusted… if he was… fully human?

He eyed his riding gear with anxiety, not wishing to get back in it again. Besides being much less comfortable after a day of constant wear, it still smelled of mothballs. He found he was quite relieved when the dwarf came back carrying a bundle of something that looked much more loose and comfortable, although it smelled somewhat goaty.

…

Polly

Polly had a similar experience with an enormous female hedgehog which she had mistaken in the dim light for a boot cleaning device and was both taken aback and relieved to know that she had been deemed fully human. Upon reflection she had to wonder how else any half-human person was meant to answer the call of nature but decided that this might just have to remain an unsavoury… and thus unsolved mystery. But she also found the woolly mullein and was mighty glad that the Narnians had found a way to keep it so soft and flexible over the winter months.

Polly also realised that she had come to find the riding habit rather an encumbrance as she tried to move about and shed clothing for decorous ablutions. The riding habit had also been snug and warm for riding, but to tell the truth was constricting and definitely not the garb for sleeping in if she could help it. The dryad who helped her into and out of it looked utterly comfortable in very little but Polly knew that she would need slightly more covering to keep warm. Polly could not help sighing a little in sorry anticipation of squeezing back into the stiff habit but then realised that the only thing to do was to ask. Which she did. And within only a few chilly minutes, she found herself enveloped in soft thick pantaloons, a snug downy vest, and some soft buckskin boots lined with finest wool socks, all covered by a thick loose gown which went to her toes that had a lovely fur collar. As she settled in to her large chair again, now a lot more comfortable, she slipped off to sleep again knowing that no matter what happened next, it could only get more interesting.

…

Polly was dreaming of reindeer thundering about in wardrobes with mirrors and the feverish work back at Bletchley Park on code wheels being conducted by gigantic hedgehogs wearing sparkling rings, when she woke with a start with the sound of airs raid sirens in her head. But when she awoke it was silent. It was the warm pressure on her left thigh which had done it. She almost jumped out of her skin as she opened her eyes, for looking directly into them were the enormous yellow eyes of a she-wolf. It was Briony, resting her head and gazing at her.

"I beg your pardon your grace, I told them that they should wait but the morning is getting on and they're all expecting you to come to the Council of Legates."

"Oh, yes, of course Briony, now, umm…" Polly looked about nervously, combing her hair roughly with her fingers. The hall was still cosy and a few lanterns still shone, but she could see the light of day beaming coldly in through some high louvres that let out the smoke. As she jumped up to gather herself, she saw that there were very few people or beasts about, apart from a pair of fauns sifting ash and throwing the coals back into the hot part of the fire. And then she noticed a set of antlers and realised that Sofja also stood nearby watching patiently. Digory was nowhere to be seen and neither were Miljá or Lambert. That was a little bothersome, but she supposed they were both with Digory, as Briony and Sofja were both with her.

"And good morning to you Soffá! I am glad you have stayed. When does it start?" she asked turning to Briony.

"It is to start in about half an hour."

"Oh dear, well, I shall need to wash my face, if nothing else. Where is it to be then?"

At that moment, two humans strode through a side door into the hearth hall. It was Digory and a man that Polly had not yet met.

"Oh Polly! I am glad you're awake. Sorry I didn't wake you earlier. But Briony here seems to be a very good judge of what's needed when she sees someone asleep. She advised me to let you continue. Said you were dreaming and that you needed to finish your dream first."

Polly turned to Briony. "Well thank you ever so much Briony. Indeed I was having a dream. Funny though, it was the most awful jumble. I must say, I am rather glad I finally woke from it. You could have woken me earlier, truly."

"As you wish your grace", murmured Briony, who had clearly not shifted her opinion on the matter at all. Polly realised this one would be no pushover.

"And this is Lord Peridan", went on Digory, oblivious. "We've been having a close conversation with Tumnus for the last hour. He's caught me up with some of what's been happening since the four came back to my house."

Polly turned to the tall vigorous man who was dressed in a peculiar blend of medieval hosen and the clobber of a 20th Century rugger enthusiast. He was in dark brown leggings with tall boots, a snug russet coloured shirt and a long knitted, belted jersey in black wool that came down nearly to his knees, with a russet rampant lion knitted into the front. Round his neck was a twisted scarf striped in russet and black, trimmed with fur. On his head was a black knitted hat with a russet pompon. His long dark hair was caught in a loose plait in front of his right shoulder, held with a few bands of copper. He looked about 35 years old and a little weather-beaten.

"Lady Polly of the Rings. Delighted to meet you at last."

He bowed low when he saw Polly and taking her hand, kissed her delicately on the knuckle, his amber eyes noting her rather over-adorned hand.

"Likewise Lord Peridan", said Polly, doing a slight bob in spite of herself.

He continued, "Briony did so insist on you completing your sleep. I hope it has done you great good. I did not come in until after your arrival and slumber, so I missed introductions then."

"Well, we were rather tired. It all went in such a blur, I may not have remembered anyway, if you excuse me." She hesitated. "But now you are here Lord Peridan, would you be so kind as to help me understand something. A Lord of Narnia you are I assume?"

He nodded, gazing at Polly levelly.

"Peter and the others told us that there were no other humans in Narnia upon their arrival, aristocratic or otherwise; their presence by entering magically through the wardrobe, broke a spell. Pray tell, where do you fit in? And why are you not King Peridan if you are a Lord?" asked Polly.

"Indeed, Lady Polly, you may well ask", said Peridan. "Firstly I come in part from the Archen Royal Line, being King Lune's second cousin twice removed. It was he who implored me to serve Narnia and the High King Peter when the White Witch's abominable reign was ended. I was made Herald and later War General. I retain the latter role. But I also come from the line of the Counts of the Southern Vales, a small but old Narnian family which was all but decimated by Jadis as she locked the borders with ice. Lucky it was that my three times grandmother, Countess Agnis, was a'wintering in Armouthe, the small city at the mouth of the Winding Arrow in Archenland, when the Witch swept through the valley of Narnia, else she too would have perished and my grandfather would not have been born. Jadis began at Cair Paravel and worked outwards we are told. The Countess's direct connection to the throne of Narnia was three generations further back. There are now few sons of Adam or daughters of Eve of full Narnian blood left anywhere now we deem, let alone royal."

Polly thought of the evacuees and prisoners of Eastern and now Western Europe, caught in the jaws of horror and wondered if anywhere in the known universe could ever be free of abominable things being done by one people to another.

"Thank you Peridan, that was most enlightening. I do hope you don't mind if I drop the Lord and Lady bit? It's not quite my style I'm afraid. Can we be considered equals in our conversations together?"

Peridan shrugged and grinned ruefully. "Certainly, it can become a little stilted and wearing can it not?" he agreed. "It has always been noted that Narnian Royalty has tended to not stand on too much ceremony, especially between the rulers and the ruled."

"Why is that?" asked Digory, curious to understand more about how Narnian culture and society had evolved over time.

"I deem it comes of this land being inhabited largely by talking beasts and magical creatures. They tend to be uninterested in such matters. Oh, there are exceptions of course, but most tend to be more interested in knowing that the Kings and Queens will be first in their defence and last in the retreat."

He sighed, "I can hardly blame them. The rulers of neighbouring Telmar and Calormen and the great lands to the South, do tend to look upon the Talking Beasts, the Centaurs, the Gryphons, Fauns, Wood-Women and suchlike as cause for sabre-rattling. For myself, I have never understood this antagonism, for being raised in Archenland which has harboured and honoured Narnians of all descriptions for generations, I have always esteemed the goodliness of all the creatures of Aslan great and small who walk these lands."

He bit his lip slightly looking thoughtful, then said "And I have even known a werewolf and a hag or two, who have proven honourable if given the chance, not to mention a certain young man you both know who was able to mend his ways when given the love and sacrifice of another."

"King Edmund you mean?" asked Digory.

Peridan tipped his head forward once in a slow decisive nod, a mournful tight-lipped look on his face. Then he said, "As you say Lord Digory. We all had much to learn from him. I would have you both know, his virtue was that he dispensed justice with greatest compassion and verisimilitude. He had a knack for cross-examining even the brood of the White Witch in ways which left the rest of us in awe and his sentences proved again and again to be fitting and to produce results. It was rare for him to ever lose his temper, although he could be icy in his regard for wanton, wilful evil. He set a high standard indeed. And on that note, may I add, despite Narnia's reputed informality, in the formal councils, and in during these uncertain times, I find it wise to maintain the forms. It can help contain the mood. And having the two of you here with your titles as given is not something I would wish you to toss aside. There will be a reason for it. High King Peter knew what he was doing, mark me. So, Lord Digory and Lady Polly, shall we move to the Council room once you have had a quick refreshment?

"Of course Lord Peridan", said Polly, "But there is one last thing that's been eating me since I knew about any of this. I would like to know more about it before we go into this Council. Excuse me for asking, and pray do not feel it is your duty to answer me this very minute, but I am baffled about something. Why did you and a group of other good humans of Narnian stock, not simply sit on the four thrones and declare yourselves?

Peridan looked pained.

"That is a moot point and a sore one, if it please you Lady Polly. We have been awaiting a sign from Aslan. And because there are too many claimants. To tell the truth, the four sovereigns being siblings and unrelated to anyone in nearby lands meant that the renewal of Narnia under Aslan's guidance could proceed after the White Witch's domination, with simplicity. And because of their youth, the complicated matters of succession did not have to be seriously considered for many a year. In the past, the twin thrones of King and Queen were enough. But when the four thrones appeared magically at the beginning of Jadis's reign when the prophecy was spoken and she found she was unable to regain entry to the Cair, the only place in all Narnia barred to her I might add, it was clear that the four thrones mean something most powerful. And they have remained. They have not disappeared. So there is thus a need to find four new people to fill the thrones. That is self-evident. But who they are to be, how they are to be related to one another… or not… and how the succession in future should be decided… it is that which has eluded us. The efforts of the Legacy have been rather spent in keeping the wheels of food and shelter, trade and justice, diplomacy and defence moving. It is my sincere hope that whilst the legacy keeps those functions, that it is you two who will help us work out how to fill the thrones."

Polly and Digory looked at each other relieved. At least they were not being asked to fill them themselves.

…

Digory

At that moment, the antlers of Soffá and Miljá intruded themselves.

"If you please Lord Digory and Lady Polly, a word if we might be so bold", said Soffá softly.

"We've been talking it over. We've been picking up the gossip about how things lie here. We think you are in for rather a stiff Council meeting. Miljá and I both think it might be useful for us to take you on a ride away from here to clear your thoughts once it's finished. Out in the fresh air so to speak."

Miljá piped up, all enthusiasm, "And Lambert and Briony say they are quite happy to come along to keep an eye on you! Wolves are quite good at keeping up with caribou you might know. It's in their blood so to speak. Lucky they are talking beasts and know how to behave themselves." Digory could have sworn she winked as she said this.

"Anyway", went on Soffá, "we are not from round these parts, indeed we're not from Narnia at all, so we have no particular concern about what you need to speak about amongst yourselves, if you need to." She gazed at them steadily, as if daring them to decline the offer.

Digory stared back thoughtfully. "Ah, hmm, indeed, that may indeed be an excellent suggestion." He looked at Polly who just shrugged. "I suppose it really depends on how long we end up meeting for. Perhaps we will let you know once the Council goes into recess. I am sure we will have a recess at some point. So thank you very much. We shall keep you posted about your kind offer."

…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: To Be Judged Fully Human

…

Digory…

There were indeed tensions in the room.

Digory found himself seated at the head of the big table next to Tumnus with Polly seated on his other side. Briony and Lambert sat steadfastly between, despite being challenged at the door as not being a part of the Legates. Briony had growled and raised her hackles and said: "No-one comes between us and those sent by Aslan for this country's benefit!"

Around the table, both seated and standing were an array of people and creatures. An aged Giant Rumblebuffin had lumbered in with his daughter in tow; florid, blonde and enormous. Her beefy fists alone could have battered Digory's Vauxhall to flatness. Rumblebuffin nodded with a bright eye as he looked at them, shed a tear or two and muttered something about a handkerchee, while he groped in his capacious pocket. His daughter beamed at them. Digory was reminded of a family he had once known who had several members who were broad of face, narrow of eye, thick of tongue, lumbering in carriage and none too bright, but friendly and caring.

Four tall graceful dryads strode in, and sat in a row of tall chairs. One was a silvery birch girl with dishevelled leafy yellow hair and she looked a little pensive. She gave a nervous bob. Another was unmistakeably a pine god. Also tall, majestic with red and brown skin like bark and beard and hair of long greenish needles, and between his legs a prominent cluster of pollen-cones. Digory was glad when he sat down. The other two, proud and aloof grey beech goddesses, with long graceful twiggy hair, and long green kirtles, gave proud nods but Digory had a creeping feeling as he took them in, that they would be oppositional in some way.

The Centaur Knitbone had entered looking none-the-worse for his long gruelling journey from the day before, and he stood smiling broadly, his big bare chest fully flexed, tapping a forehoof occasionally as if welcoming anyone who might want to take him on.

Several dwarves, two men and two women, seated themselves, on high stools and looked dignified. One of the women looked across at Digory and Polly and winked broadly. The others nodded pleasantly.

A hare, a unicorn, a boar, an owl, and a pelican took their seats or perches and a tall muddy greenish-hued man with steeple hat, a scaly jacket and tight eelskin hose, webbed feet and dreadful hair also stood nearby. He looked like he was itching for his pipe which was tucked in his belt. Digory wondered what had become of the elephants, the ravens, and the great oak which had been part of the Council of Narnia on the first day.

Then, lastly into the room, walked some more humans. Peridan was accompanied by a grave gray haired woman who was introduced as Malva, the trade mistress of Beruna and another man, Desmon, the keeper of Beruna's makeshift prison. He could have been Peridan's close relative by his look. And following a short distance behind, so that Digory did not notice him at first, was a youngish man of about twenty-five. Once he assumed his seat, he took Digory's attention. He was slim and of medium height, with honey coloured skin. He had a hank of shining black hair pulled back from the forehead, knotted tightly just behind the crown, with the rest of his head clipped close, a square cut goatee and a slim moustache. He wore a dark brocade robe, belted at the waist with a broad sash and he carried a stack of papers and quills and pens and a bottle of ink. To Digory, he looked for all the world like a Japanese retainer. He was clearly going to be the record keeper for this salubrious event. He was introduced as Daimyo Ichiro.

Daimyo's eyes were downcast as he came in, but once seated, he glanced over and Digory found himself startled by their narrow glance and for a moment he began to stare, fascinated into their inky depths.

Digory had to pull himself together, knowing that he had work to do, so he cleared his throat and smiled around at everyone. Polly did the same.

It took some time for the pleasantries and formalities and introductions to be dealt with, but in Digory's eyes, Tumnus did a sterling job at doing the introductions and in helping everyone feel welcome. Having shed his tears about the tensions besetting Narnia and his relief about their arrival the night before, he now took charge of proceedings with great deliberation and spirit.

…..

But it took hours. Hours of what Judith Macready would have called argey-bargey.

First of all and most embarrassingly, the Owl declared as only owls can, "Whoo hoo, who could ever have guessed that this illustrious pair would arrive in Narnia at our time of need. Praise be to Aslan for his divine intervention. I may now declare that the Lord Digory of the Apples and the Lady Polly of the Rings have been declared fully human by the Talking Beasts. Spawn of Jadis, they are most certainly not. They have conferred and all are agreed on the matter after, err, close surveillance."

Of course Digory and Polly had to bring out their formal credentials and tell their tale – in the simplest terms of course – about how they had come to Narnia and how it was they knew about the wellbeing of the former sovereigns.

Digory was wary about being seen as a shoe-in, so he was actually quite relieved when one of the cynical looking dryads questioned him and Polly quite deeply in front of witnesses. She was introduced as Ffawydden and she wanted to know more about the connection between him and Peter and so on and why it was that he had been able to be here as a young child, but now returned more than a thousand years later only as a young man by the look of it and yet the sovereigns had appeared nearly 17 years ago as children and grown up. "It does not make much sense, if you take my meaning", she said, looking down her beautiful nose at them. She smiled sweetly, but widened her eyes, clearly as a challenge.

Polly stirred when this was said, and looked across at her admiringly, for these dryads were strong characters who were clearly not going to be a push-over.

But Digory cleared his throat first and stood up, saying:

"Of.. of… course, Lady Ffawydden, your questions and concerns are quite valid. You need to understand that time runs far swifter in Narnia than it does in our own world. Lady Polly of the Rings and I, well… we were born into a time about 60 years before the present in our world. I became a scholar, then a soldier, then a teacher and a philosopher, if you understand me. I inherited my family's estate. Lady Polly has been a nurse of the maimed and wounded, a leader of a community of women, and most lately an interceptor and interpreter of secret messages in a new war that has beset our own country in a world at war."

"We first came to Narnia on the day of its creation when were only about ten years old. We did indeed witness the Great Lion Aslan singing the land to life. This and the special connection those first days forged between ourselves and Aslan has stayed with us all our lives. On the second day or third day, we brought an apple back from the garden of life on the green hill. At Aslan's direction I tossed it into the mud next to the Great River and it grew in a space of hours to become the Tree of Protection during the crowning of King Frank and Queen Helen. Aslan gifted me with another apple from that tree and I was allowed to take that apple back to our world to heal my dying mother. With Aslan's blessing, she had a swift recovery and a long and happy life. Lady Polly and I planted the core of that apple in my garden. Around it, we buried the magical rings which brought us to this world in the first place, so that none may ever misuse them. One of the seeds grew into a tall tree and produced beautiful apples. But on the day of my mother's death, it blew down. We suspect very strongly that this moment coincided with Jadis's successful return and her conquest of Narnia, 900 years after the beginning, even though it was only about forty-five years of our time. Anyway, I had the tree milled and the best parts were made into a wardrobe, a storage cupboard for clothing if you understand me. I kept it in one of my spare rooms. I live in a big house you see."

He and Polly noticed a few faces process this information. The "Bright city of War Drobe in the fair land of Spare Oom," had got about and his clarification was new to some. He hoped it would cement their credentials.

Digory went on.

"The timber of this wardrobe clearly held strong magic, because it was through this wardrobe that your recent sovereigns came into your world. Prior to those events, I did not even know that the wardrobe had any special properties. The four were sent to my house for safety after our nation, indeed many nations went to war. The great city of London was… rather is, being bombed. Enormous explosive devices dropped from the sky by flying machines if you understand me and it was too unsafe for children to be there."

The Legates of Beruna looked aghast at that news.

"My housekeeper, servants and I were providing them safe haven. However, instead of finding that safe haven, the children found themselves in frozen Narnia, stepping into a prophecy, which expected them to rid Narnia of Jadis, the White Witch. As it happened, they had Aslan on their side, indeed it seems that their very entry into Narnia, enabled the spell that prevented his re-entry to be broken as well. I believe you know the rest of the story."

Digory took his seat again. He said nothing about his own role in bringing Jadis to Narnia. "Best leave that one alone", Polly had whispered into his ear a little earlier.

He looked at the Dryad directly in the eyes and dared her to respond. She did not, but shifted her gaze to another in the room who did respond. It was the Unicorn.

"Most beautifully told oh most noble Lord of the Apple", it said with a goaty cough and proud toss of its head, "but it still remains to be explained how it is that you are both younger now than the four sovereigns were when they disappeared? It does beg the veracity of your statements."

"A fair question", intercepted Polly, drawing herself up and looking at the unicorn respectfully. She continued.

"Peter and Susan and the others returned to us with no time passed at all for the fifteen or so years they passed here. They stepped into the room of the wardrobe and a few moments later stepped back out of it, also returned as children again. They tell me they were even dressed in the same clothes that they arrived in when they first stepped into Narnia. As you can imagine, they tried immediately to get back to the hunting party, but found that the back of the wardrobe was solid wood again. Narnia was now barred to them, presumably at Aslan's instigation. Queen Susan it seems is particularly concerned about the safety of her horn, and her dear friends and colleagues of course. They all worry for you all. At the time of our leaving, it was only about one week since they had returned, not the year and a half it has been here. Indeed, they say that whilst Narnia is as real to them as ever much of the time, at other times it almost feels like a dream and that they have difficulty remembering all of it clearly."

There were some gasps, a sob or two and Lambert lifted his head and emitted a stirring descant cry.

Even Polly was stirred to tears to that, but she continued. "We have concluded that their long sojourn in Narnia was for their own lasting benefit as much as for yours, but that some of these benefits are yet to be seen. As for us, we were only about twelve when we first visited ourselves and until yesterday, we were three score when we unexpectedly left it again to come here. But as you can see, we have arrived here looking… and feeling… much the same as when we were… what would you say Digory, seventeen?"

He nodded and added. "Agreed. But neither of us has any difficulty remembering where we came from or what we have done in our former lives. So I come to you with the life experience of someone four times the age you see here and so does Polly."

Polly went on, "For myself, I claim no particular role here, and must declare myself in your hands, err, your mouths, ears and paws… and hooves", she corrected. "It really is up to you here to determine what you wish myself and Lord Digory to do. You should know, I am a great believer in the people's right to choose their own rulers. I utterly support you in that. But we have been assured that sons and daughters of Adam and Eve have been singled out by Aslan as those with the greatest responsibility to take on this mantle and that in time, the sovereign-ship is something to be inherited. Not what I would have thought best necessarily. I admit to being a republican at heart, and believe in the choice of rulers based on merit, the need of the time and the free choice of the people. But I know that Narnia has its ways and that even a person born to a responsibility may rise to the occasion and surprise all. And I suppose that if you can elect your rulers now, you may get to choose them again in some future time."

Polly laid her hands palm up on the table as a signal of her openness to whatever came next. "As I said I am at your disposal," she finished. Digory cleared his throat.

"You should understand, that the High King Peter did speak to us a rhyme, which we do not have written down but we know it had to do with his concern about strife amongst visiting nobles (there was nodding recognition at this statement) and the potential for unrest across greater Narnia. His clear overwhelming desire, shared by his siblings is that a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve, or more than one, are installed here as new sovereigns.."

"Lady Polly and I talked it over after finding ourselves unexpectedly here; and we agree we must be here on Aslan's doing. How else? We believe we understand Peter's earnest wishes. As we have arrived and found others here expressing the same need, we must assume that these wishes coincide with those of Aslan. So until we hear otherwise from him, I conclude it is our task to assist you to choose and install your new rulers, whomsoever they may be."

Polly stepped in again. "You should also know, if you don't already, that we were met by the Winterfather shortly after our arrival. We know him as Saint Nicholas or Father Christmas. In our world, as here, he is a spirit of generosity and a carer of children and a giver of gifts. He personally gifted us with talismans to help us in our tasks… and loaned us two reindeer to help bring us on the first leg of our journey. Perhaps for other purposes as well" she added looking about. "Sofjá and Miljá do not seem to be going anywhere. I believe they are waiting patiently for us outside and are most glad for the generous browse you have provided them."

Numerous other questions and statements were made by the gathering, and debate went around and around. Every person present spoke their mind, except Lord Daimyo, who was keeping assiduous notes. Where the court should be held; who should assist; which nations ought to be invited to submit candidates for rulership; which nations to submit witnesses; whether it should be an existing couple as King and Queen; whether four candidates ought to be selected to fill the four thrones; and whether these ought to be required to be youthful, single, attached to each other, or not at all; who should make the final decisions; how the Narnian people should judge their character and suitability; and what criteria should be used; … and so on and so forth.

Who could dance the best was one suggestion. Someone with the most recent blood connections to the widest range of other nations, as insurance against international manipulation was another. Who could best lead a company against enemies. Who would treat the Talking Beasts with greatest respect. Who could crawl most comfortably into the smithies of the Dwarves. Who had skills in judgement and knowledge of law. Digory's mind was a'whirl with the range of suggestions and demands.

They took breaks. Small knots of arguing creatures and people met at different corners of the room before returning to the table. At several points, Tumnus trembled and gripped his horns in his hands in an attempt to keep track. He had to order notes to be scrubbed and rewritten. Daimyo maintained an inscrutability and patience throughout which Digory admired very much. At several points Digory felt that he could have intervened and taken over, as Polly indicated to him more than once, but as the discussion included the extent to which he and Polly could have any authority at all, they agreed they had to be patient. Instead, Digory used his time to listen and make considered suggestions based on his knowledge of logic and philosophy. He had to keep his comments to the point. He also noticed that Polly was extremely well behaved and that if she had anything to offer it was an observation about proceedings. She was clever. She somehow seemed to present her comments as praise even though she was pointing out weaknesses in proceedings and how things could be done better. Tumnus looked as if he was rising to the occasion remarkably well and responding well to the promptings that he and Polly were offering.

By mid-day, everyone needed a break. They had up to two hours. After all this was Narnia time, not some high pressure meeting in Whitehall. Polly and Digory, along with everyone else wandered back into the great hall with the fire now blazing and there was hot soup with bread and a little warm wine. Here, Sofjá and Miljá waited, gazing at them solemnly with their bulging reindeer eyes. Digory noticed that Briony and Lambert were still shadowing he and Polly very closely indeed. He found it both reassuring and slightly alarming altogether.

"So, most noble visitors to Narnia" said Sofjá softly, "have they made any decisions yet?"

"No, not as yet, but the discussion is most enlightening," said Polly, munching around a piece of sopped bread and an unfamiliar piece of purple root vegetable.

Digory was relieved she was deliberately not giving much away, outside the Council room. He knew her tone.

"There appears to be progress, but we are going slowly at this stage as it pays to when assessing a new situation," added Digory, careful to be diplomatic with all the listening ears, and again saying nothing of any detail.

"I thought as much", put in Miljá, rolling her eyes and not caring a whit about anyone's feelings. It was hardly as if she was too concerned, being one of the chosen ones of the Winterfather himself. "So when are we going to get you both out for a run, freshen the air around you, clear the cobwebs out... you know?"

So after they had finished their soup and bread, Polly and Digory donned their riding gear again, buttoned on the fur coats, and went outside, climbing onto the reindeer's backs.

"We'll be back in half an hour!" called Digory to Tumnus, as Sofjá and Miljá swung away, pacing through the snow with Briony and Lambert in hot pursuit on their flanks.

They climbed the relatively gentle slopes of the north bank of the Great River above the fords, mainly pacing through well trodden snow, but after about ten minutes, Sofjá led the way to the right into some slightly deeper snow and they had to pace more strongly and spread their hooves. They reached a saddle of grazing land, with fence posts and barns and farm gates, backed by lightly forested hills. It gave them a view across all of Beruna, shrouded in snow but clearly a large town that had many streets with houses, several warehouses and buildings of craft and light industry. It reminded Digory achingly of the older towns of Oxfordshire and Warwickshire from when he was a young man, without the railways and only a few plumes of woodsmoke issuing from chimneys. It was good to get above it all and survey things a little. Digory looked across at Polly and grinned. Despite her no-nonsense dutiful character, she couldn't hold back a delighted grin too and they enjoyed a stirring ride in the cold air again. It was just the thing. Any mental fuzziness, delusions of aggrandizement or the creeping feelings of intimidation that had begun to beset Digory as they had sat in the Council Room were blown away.

Digory couldn't help using this as an opportunity to ask his shadow, Lambert, for his opinion on progress, who was panting only slightly after the run.

"Your grace does me too much honour by asking for my humble opinion," was his response. He kept his head down, turning slightly, still surveying the ground around them for any threats. "I rather think my role as guardian is most suited to my nose, my eyes, my teeth and my claws."

"That is a load of rubbish, if I may make so bold!" dared Digory. "You stood by Queen Susan for much of her reign. I know she ran the law courts at Cair Paravel with Edmund for years. She told me much about it... and you, now I put my mind to it. You must have some opinion on how the members of the Council are truly responding to our presence, and what we have to offer to the discussion. I am not commanding you, not by a long shot, but I think you do ill to minimise your function."

Lambert stopped his snaking sensory movements, lifted his head, licked his jaws and looking slightly to Digory's left with his piercing black rimmed eyes said:

"You are doing very well. Narnia takes time. I think the patience and the respect you are both bringing to the discussion is winning you friends. The cracks in Narnia have been showing for some time now and even those warring factions which have grown, are also anxious about the cracks getting wider. I think those represented here today may come around to accepting you both as agents of change... and in the long run, some of the other humans here for that matter."

"Oh, really? Which humans do you mean?"

"Oh, the one you first met and the one you are rather taken with. It only confirms you are fully human of course, not that myself and Briony ever had any doubts. But you will need to be especially careful how that matter plays out in coming weeks."

Having said such a confronting statement, Lambert then remained silent on the subject and there was nothing that Digory could do to draw him out any further at this point. But it left him with the feeling that though he may have kudos with this company, there was a great need to pay attention to his unintentional communication.

...

They returned to the town and the Council Room in short course and the proceedings continued.

They went on until the middle of the evening and took more hot soup. Rumblebuffin had gone to sleep in the corner stretched out from end to end and was snoring the place down. His daughter was sitting on her great stool, leaning on her hamfist, staring glumly into the mid distance. The dwarves looked tired but had been able to keep up. Even the dryads and some of the Talking Beasts were still offering sensible considered opinion.

So it was, that by about 9 o'clock, with a strained Daimyo by his side, a tired Tumnus made the following announcement:

"So it is agreed then! Lord Digory and Lady Polly will assume the Regency of Narnia. Their tasks will firstly be to resume the court to keep the law of the land, assisted by four representatives of the dwarves, one from each corner of Narnia and the Lord Daimyo. And secondly to …", here he took a deep breath and said importantly, "find and instal the next rulers of Narnia with the free participation and consent of the Narnian people, after which they shall step aside! In this they shall be assisted by the dryads and the centaurs, again one of each from each corner of Narnia … The tasks of the Legates of Beruna shall remain but it shall resume its name as Great Council of Narnia and its main task will be to provide background assistance in the latter task as well as to maintain trade, fair dealings and defence. It cannot be overstated that the timely installation of new rulers is urgent. As the Legates have discussed at our last meeting, the messenger birds of both Narnia and Archenland give report of looming interest from other lands about the power vacuum and as we know to our alarm from recent events with the bickering nobles."

"It has also been decided that all neighbouring countries with blood connections to the former royal family of Narnia will be invited to send youthful contenders and that any countries with or without blood connections will be invited to attend as witnesses. We note that for the time being Calormen will not be formally invited, as it was this country that most recently schemed to take Cair Paravel by force. It is noted however, that a Calormene presence is still desirable and that should King Lune choose to send his Calormene ward, Tarkheena Aravis, as witness, who is a dear friend of Narnia, that this will be welcomed. Again, the emphasis will be on youth, in line with the recent example set by Aslan in choosing the very young and in the guise he has sent the Lord Digory and Lady Polly."

"And lastly, the Regency will be solemnified in two weeks and shall take place at Cair Paravel itself, which shall be reopened!"

"Let the happy news be sent out with the messenger birds by noon tomorrow and please make sure they have it in writing! We don't need the Narnian twitters to get it all mixed up!"

He nodded vigorously to three fauns who had stepped up to relieve Daimyo Ichiro of is records. Digory decided that the fauns would have their work cut out for them and would probably be up all night.

There was a cacophony of applause and a few slightly miffed expressions, but the majority decision had been made. There was room a'plenty for those with concerns about the choosing and the functions of advisors to play out their political energies, but the aim was clear.

That night, Polly and Digory and much of the rest of the Legacy slept in deserved comfort wrapped in thick woollen quilts on divans around the great fire in the hall.

Digory drifted off to grateful sleep with the faces of Aslan, Tumnus, the Beech Dryad… and Daimyo Ichiro, washing through his mind. And by the sensations he was having about the latter, he found he was most grateful to have been declared fully human.

…


End file.
